


Now let the healing start

by AliceParrilla18



Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV)
Genre: 7x13, Angst, Dorks in Love, F/M, Family, Fix-It, Fix-it fic, Hurt, Hurt/Comfort, Philinda - Freeform, Season Finale, Time Travel, True Love, What-If
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-19
Updated: 2020-08-19
Packaged: 2021-03-06 06:48:14
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,056
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25999270
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AliceParrilla18/pseuds/AliceParrilla18
Summary: "How can you be sure it will work?""I can't. I guess it's gonna be a leap of faith type of thing."Or, while in Tahiti, May gets an unexpected visit from her future self and a chance to save Coulson.
Relationships: Phil Coulson/Melinda May
Comments: 18
Kudos: 67





	Now let the healing start

**Author's Note:**

> So, I'm still not ready to talk about the finale, but here's my first story after the ending, so I guess I'm making progress, huh. My heart's just breaking for Philinda, and this story is a what could have happened if the writers actually cared about the fans (sorry not sorry, I'll never forgive JedMo for making Philinda this dirty at the end). It may be messy and chaotic, but I hope you'll understand what I had on mind and like this fic. English is not my main language, so as always I'm sorry for mistakes (please, remember that we're all human and that we write here for fun). I'll be gratefull for every comment. Enjoy!
> 
> Title of the story is from the song Scars by Tove Lo.

The first thing Melinda did after waking up was grabbing his hand in hers where she knew he was, to feel his pulse with her trembling fingers, where she couldn't be sure it would be there.

She didn't open her eyes, didn't take a breath. She didn't want to find out that he was no longer there by seeing it. She didn't want to breathe until she was sure he was still breathing as well.

The slow but steady rhythm beneath her fingertips was her permission to breathe again. He was alive, so she was alive too.

She opened her eyes. The sun was breaking through the large window into the bedroom. It was early, her internal clock not letting her sleep longer than to six. But it was her problem, not his, and he needed his sleep. She let go of his hand, gently so as not to wake him up.

She turned her head towards him to look at him. His face was calm. His chest was rising up and down. She could hear him inhale and exhale through his nose.

She wondered how long, how many more mornings like this would be given to them before one day his face wouldn’t be calm, his chest wouldn’t rose up and down and she wouldn’t be able to hear him breathe. When that last morning comes, will she know that’s it? Will she be ready to go to sleep by his side, knowing that when she wakes up again, he won't be there anymore?

She sat up on the bed looking away from him, and pressed her index fingers to the corners of her eyes to keep the tears from falling down her cheeks. It wasn’t time for tears. The only time of the day she could allow herself for them was at night. She’d make sure he’s sound asleep, tired of walking around the island, swimming in the ocean, and „parasailing” every time they could, and then she’d carefully sneak into the bathroom with a pillow in her hand to sit curled up on the cold floor and press it against her face to silence the sobs and screams that she wasn’t able to hold back any longer after a whole day of bottling them up inside. She had to be strong, for him. She couldn't let him see how much it was all eating her up from within, how like the poison that was circulating through his body slowly killing him with each passing day, it was also killing her. There was no Melinda May without Phil Coulson. They were soulmates. They weren't meant to live apart.

But he didn't have to know about it, he didn't have to see her heart break, he didn't have to hear her cries and screams muted by the pillow. He was supposed to relax, to rest, to enjoy every minute and every second, every breath he had left, as much as possible. He was the main character in this movie. For these few moments, he was the center of the world. He deserved to be happy, he deserved not to worry, not to think about anything other than the here and the now. She was there with him of her own free will. She had no right to be selfish, she had no right to feel sorry for herself. She was here for him, to spend what was left of his life with him, to give him what he wanted, to _be_ what he wanted. To at least once take the weight of being a shield off his shoulders, and become a shield for him. She was there to give him solace.

He was still breathing, so she still had to breathe, too, no matter how much pain it was causing her.

It was morning. It wasn't time for tears.

Holding on to this thought for dear life, she got up from the bed and, almost noiselessly, began her morning routine, which she had worked out for their over a week's long now stay on the island. A shower, half an hour of tai-chi, a cup of green tea on a wooden bench in front of the house, where the morning ocean breeze was gently tickling her skin. It was easy to get used to the nice things, especially after all the hell they'd been through recently in a dystopian future.

Once her cup was empty, she got up and walked back inside, heading for the kitchen to prepare breakfast. Tea would have been enough for her, but he needed to eat at least three meals a day, in order to have the strength he had been lacking so much lately.

She opened the refrigerator to pull out the eggs, but suddenly froze in place, as a strange sensation shot through her spine and made the tiny hairs on her neck stand up. There was a whistle in the air right behind her. Not thinking much, letting her muscle memory take over, she pulled a gun from the kitchen cupboard and turned around, pointing it straight ahead.

She didn't know what she expected to see, but the sight in front of her made her question the clarity of her mind.

Maybe they've been through too many strange, abnormal things and situations. Maybe the jumps in time through the portal in the stone had left their mark on her psyche. Or maybe she was just going crazy.

Because how else can you explain seeing your look-alike appearing out of nowhere right in front of you?

"What are you and how did you get in here?" she asked, though she couldn't be sure that what she was seeing wasn’t just a figment of her imagination and that she wasn’t speaking to herself.

The woman who looked like her shook her head as if she didn't quite believe what she was seeing herself either, but then raised her hands up in surrender and looked Melinda in the eyes. "Easy, I’m not here to hurt you," she said, taking a step towards her. Melinda tensed and her fingers tightened on the gun. The woman stopped, a flash of understanding crossing her face. "Right. Sorry."

"What are you?" Melinda asked again, keeping her eyes on the newcomer. _What_ , not who. She had seen too many robots, androids, and chronicles in her life before to believe that the figure in front of her was human. It wasn't possible.

But… damn. Looking at her, Melinda felt as if she was looking at her reflection in a mirror, or looking at herself in photos in the album. The figure looked exactly like her. She was speaking the same way. She was moving the same way. She was putting more weight on her right leg while standing the same way, though she was doing it more unconsciously than Melinda, the wound on her own left leg was just beginning to heal, as much as possible without proper treatment or medical care.

The figure tilted her head slightly as if wondering what words to use to explain what was happening. As if there was any way to do that. "I’m you," she said finally. "I mean, you from the future. You from a few years from now, but from a different timeline."

An irritated almost laugh involuntarily escaped May's lips, but no muscle in the other woman's face twitched. She was serious. More, she wanted Melinda to believe the crazy things she was saying. From the future. From another timeline. _Good luck with that._

"Sure you are."

"I know you don’t believe me now, but I’m telling the truth," the woman began, not giving up. "I know about everything that's happened to you, what’s happened to us. I know Coulson is asleep in the bedroom behind the wall right as we speak, on the right side of the bed because you prefer the left one, because it’s closer to the window. I know you take a shower every morning, do a half hour tai-chi session, drink green tea on the porch watching the ocean, and then make breakfast, usually omelettes, waiting for him to wake up. I know your leg hurts like hell, but you don't say a word because you don't want him to worry. I know you live in fear that one day you will wake up to him already gone. I know you don't want it, I know it's slowly killing you like the poison in his veins is killing him, but you grit your teeth because you know that's what he needs right now. I know you love him too much to let him worry about you in his final moments."

Every word of the woman was like a dagger that pierced May's heart. Or rather, what was left of it.

She blinked several times and took a deep breath to steady herself. "You can’t know any of that," she said, tightening her grip on the gun. Her look-alike smiled gently.

"I do. I know, because that’s what I was doing and feeling when I was in Tahiti with my Phil. Your emotions are my emotions. We are one person, just as experienced, just as hurt and just as in love with a man who’s dying yet one more time."

It couldn't be true. Her words were an exact representation of her thoughts that she had never shared with anyone, that no one but her could know about. Was this another LMD with her consciousness? Was someone trying to create Framework again and imprison them all in it? Or was it really this bad with her that she was starting to hallucinate?

"How can I be sure you’re not a LMD? How can I be sure you’re actually telling the truth?"

The corner of the woman's mouth rose gently again. "Remember what you said to Coulson in Framework? You have to show, not tell. Well, that’s exactly what I’m going to do, so it would be nice if you put the damn gun down. It’s empty, anyway, you keep the loaded one in the bag under the bed."

Melinda swallowed, calculating the pros and cons over in her head. Could she really believe her? Could she believe herself?

"Okay."

Slowly, she lowered her arm, not letting go of the gun, and allowed it to drop along her side, giving her look-alike silent permission to do anything she believed would convince her that she was telling the truth.

The woman took a few steps towards her, slowly and carefully, still holding her hands up and looking into her eyes. As she got so close that Melinda could smell her perfume, her _own_ perfume, she stopped and lowered her arms. She reached out to her and Melinda tensed again. But holding her breath, she nodded quickly as the woman looked at her with question. She felt her fingers gently grab her hand, lift it up, and press it against the other woman's chest. "Feel it. Feel that I’m real," she whispered. Melinda looked at their joined hands and took a deep breath to calm her own beating at unhealthy speed heart. And when she did, she felt it. A sure, steady rhythm. She had met enough androids to know it wasn’t fake. The androids were perfect from the outside, no different from a human at all. But inside, they were still just machines, with a metal skeleton instead of bones and a battery instead of a heart. No scientist or book could create a heart out of nothing.

The woman was telling the truth. She was human. And she was actually Melinda, however ridiculous it sounded.

Melinda withdrew her hand and flinched involuntarily. She took a step back, increasing the distance between herself and herself from the future (God, did she really believe that?). She met her eyes and looked into them in silence for several seconds. Looking at them closely now, she could tell that they were the same eyes she saw every time she looked in the mirror. Just as dark, mysterious, distanced and tired. But there was something else about them, something she couldn't put her finger on.

"Alright, let’s say I believe you," she said, carefully watching each move of the future May. The woman smiled encouragingly.

"It’s not the weirdest thing that’s ever happened to us, huh?"

"What are you doing here? If you’re really from the future, why did you travel back to the past? What do you need from my now?"

"I’m not here for something for myself. I’m here to give something to you."

"Which is?"

"I want to give you a chance. To you and Phil. A chance for a good life you can spent together." Melinda frowned, not understanding. Future May reached into the pocket of her leather jacket and took out a bottle with undefined contents. She grabbed it with two fingers and lifted it up to their faces. "It’s a cure that can save Phil."

May took a sharp breath in and shook her head. She made it clear she didn't want hope. The future her should know that. "No. Nothing can save him anymore," she said quietly, hating the way her voice cracked at the end. Compassion flashed through the woman's eyes.

"At this moment it’s true, but in a few years Fitzsimmons will find a solution. In my timeline, they already did."

"And? Does it work?" she asked. Future May curled up in herself almost unnoticeably, and her eyes seemed to dim. But Melinda knew the movement, and herself, too well to miss it.

"There’s only one way to find out."

It took a moment for it to dawn on Melinda what the words of her future self really meant. This time it was her heart filling with compassion. "Oh. You lost him. The same way _I’m_ going to loose him."

"The point is, you don’t have to." The glow returned to the woman's eyes. "In my timeline, we didn’t get a chance to save him. Or rather, we did, but not on time. And yes, we lost him, just as you would have lost him if I hadn't come here now. But just because I have the cure a few years too late doesn't necessarily mean your Phil won't be there anymore to see it getting invented either. It’s not too late for you yet. You can still have time. Isn't that what you both want? Time?" Melinda was silent, not knowing what to say. It was a lot to process. Future May continued. "Listen, I know you’re scared. Believe me or not, but I can feel it very clearly. But I can also feel how much he loves you, how much you love him and how you don’t want him to go in the moment you have both been waiting for so long. The content of this bottle is a way to prevent this from happening. Just think about it, you can grow old together. You can finally have the life you’ve always dreamed of."

Melinda swallowed hard, and after a while raised her gaze up to look herself in the eyes. "I’m sorry you didn’t get to have that."

Future May smiled in response, setting a single tear in motion, and it started to run down her cheek. She took Melinda's hands in hers and pressed a bottle with a purple substance into them. "He’d want that, my Phil. He’d want at least one version of us to be happy, just as I do. So take it. Take the risk, he’s dying anyway. You can save him now. Take it, and be happy."

"Are you?" Melinda asked, staring at the bottle now in her hands.

"What?"

"Happy. Are you?"

It was a long moment before future May replied. When she did, her voice was quiet, but full of unspeakable emotions that didn't really need to be spoken. "I’m working on it. For now, your happiness will be enough for me."

She glanced at her watch, and then took a few steps back, taking a red buttoned vial out of her other pocket, and Melinda knew it was a sign that they were running out of time. She wanted more of it. She still had so many questions.

She took a step towards her future self, clenching her fingers on the bottle. "How can you be sure it will work?" she asked. The woman smiled again, and it was the most sincere smile Melinda had ever seen on her own face.

"I can’t. I guess it’s gonna be a leap of faith type of thing."

Her answer made a pleasant warmth spread at the bottom of Melinda’s heart.

"I…"

"Don’t say anything, just do. And keep in mind that, no matter how many bad things are yet to happen, no matter how bad it seems and how you think it’s over, you’re going to survive that. If you only take the risk and accept the gift I am offering you now. Let yourself be happy."

Before Melinda could speak again, ask about anything else, _thank_ her, future May gave her one last look and pressed the button on the red vial, and she was gone. She disappeared as quickly and unexpectedly as she appeared, leaving the confused Melinda alone.

It was quiet again.

"Good morning, dear," Phil said, walking into the kitchen and lazily rubbing the last remnants of sleep from his eyes. He walked over to Melinda and kissed the top of her head. "Who were you talking to at such an hour? I though I heard voices. Hey, what do you have there?" he asked, pointing to the bottle.

Melinda looked at him.

She had been through a lot. The death of an innocent girl nearly killed her, leaving her in pieces. But she survived it. She wasn't sure if she was strong enough to survive the death of the man who put these pieces back together.

Future May was right, he was dying anyway. What did she have to lose?

She looked down at the bottle she was clutching tightly in her hand, and then up at Phil again. She smiled.

Oh, she loved him so much.

"A chance."

It was morning. It wasn't time for tears.

*

**_Few years later…_ **

The first thing Melinda did after waking up was grabbing his hand in hers where she knew he was, to squeeze it in hers and brush her fingers over his pulse point, just in case, where she also knew it would be there. She didn't open her eyes.

The slow but steady rhythm beneath her fingertips was confirmation of what she already knew and an assurance that she no longer needed to be afraid. He was alive, and she was alive too.

She smiled, not intending to open her eyes just yet, when she felt his other hand move under the covers over her back, from her neck down to her hips. She murmured softly with pleasure as a pleasant shiver ran down her spine.

"Good morning," he whispered in her ear and kissed the sensitive spot behind it where he knew she loved it. She turned lazily towards him. She opened her eyes slightly, just enough to see his face close to hers, and smiled again when their lips met.

"Morning," she muttered between kisses. She moved closer to him, and he caught her face in his hands, kissing her lips greedily. She groaned, wrapping her arms around his neck. They were left out of breath after they finally broke apart. "How long you’re awake?" she asked.

"Few minutes. A message from Daisy woke me up. She send me a picture of space."

"I can bet it’s a pretty view."

"Not as pretty as you."

"Dork. Wait, what time it is?"

"Nine. Good thing we postponed the opening ceremony to noon, because you'd be late, professor May," he said, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. She laughed, hitting him gently on the side.

"It was your job to wake me up on time, professor Coulson."

"Couldn’t help it. You look too cute when you’re asleep." She shook her head, snorting softly under her breath. She lay more comfortably on the pillow so that she could look at him freely and thought for a moment. Noticing this, Phil sighed softly and began stroking her hair. "I know this look, you worry about something. What are you thinking about?"

She sighed, searching for the right words to express what she felt. "I’m thinking about how happy I am. We’ve been together through so much, and yet we’re still standing. The world is saved, our team is safe. And we? Just look at us. We’re parent figures, and, damn, we even have a granddaughter. And today we’re opening our own academy."

"Yeah, it’s nice. I’m happy, too."

"I just keep wondering what would happen if my future self hadn’t come to Tahiti with the cure for you back then. What would happen if I didn't believe her."

He rose slightly on the bed and rested on his elbow. He grabbed her chin in his fingers and lifted it gently upwards, forcing her to look at him. His face become serious. "You did, and the cure worked. I’m here only thanks to you."

"But what if…"

"You said you from the future lost me from the future. She hadn’t had a choice, but when she saw an opportunity, she did everything in her power to give it to you. And I think that's why you believed her. Because you know yourself and you always care for others, and you know that if you were in her shoes, you would do exactly the same thing. You would also want to bring happiness to that version of yourself it wasn’t too late for."

Melinda bit her lip for a moment, trying to deal with the intensity of the emotion she was feeling from Phil. Or maybe it was her feelings too, she didn't know. In moments like this, she couldn't draw a clear line between his feelings and the ones she was starting to feel again herself.

"I just… I'm sorry nobody did this something like that for her. That she had to sacrifice her happiness for ours," she said. The guilt and regret were definitely hers.

"I know."

"I’d like to thank her for this at least."

"I’m sure she knows."

He pulled her gently towards him, letting her lie down on his chest, knowing that the feeling of his heartbeat was the only thing that could soothe her at that moment. And he was right. As soon as she felt the steady beat of his heart under her fingers, her muscles relaxed. He wrapped his arms around her tiny naked form, hugging her closer to him.

"I hope she’s found her happiness."

"Me too."

She hid in his embrance like a little child. The calm rhythm of his heart made her eyelids feel heavy. She knew that if they didn't get up soon, they would be late for real. But she didn't care. A soothing sound was effectively rocking her back to sleep.

She smiled to herself before drifting away again, thinking about how much she loved the man who was here with her thanks to her future self. Thanks to Melinda. She saved him.

They had been through a lot, but now they had the opportunity to experience even more together. They were alive and they were together. They were living in one apartment. They were opening an academy named after them and intended to teach future agents and have a reputation as professors there, enjoying the peace and stability they lacked so badly.

No more androids, no more aliens to kill any of them again, no more chronicles on a mission to destroy the world. They had overcome it all, the world was safe. And they could finally do whatever they wanted. To teach or not, to spend time with their family or not, to visit every possible place in the world (except Tahiti) or not. They could open many more bottles of Haig.

For the first time in a long time, their fate was in their hands.

For the first time in a long time, they had a choice.

But for now, it was morning. And it wasn’t time for tears (ever again).

**Author's Note:**

> This is the first time I can't wish you a happy AoS day anymore, and it's just breaking my heart (someone hug me pls).


End file.
